


Wembley

by lunaloop



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Fluff I guess, I suck at tagging, Kissing, M/M, Michael is annoyed, Muke - Freeform, a bit of crying luke in the end, cal ash and luke bet, cal is only mentioned, kinda cute, liveshow, michael wants to pay them back, wembley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 08:50:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5533688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaloop/pseuds/lunaloop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re not gonna bet.”<br/>“Yes, we are,” Luke smirks, biting his lip cheekily. “No, you aren’t.” “Yes, we are.” “You aren’t.” “We are.” “Don’t fuck with me, Hemmings.” “Never in a million years.”<br/>And that’s the moment when Michael decides he has to do something. He’ll pay them back, oh yes, he will and, damn, it will be funny as hell.</p>
<p>_______________________</p>
<p>5sos are playing a show at Wembley and Cal, Ash and Luke bet that Michael is going to hurt himself on stage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wembley

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hello then!
> 
> I'm so excited to upload this little story because apparently it's my first work about Muke Clemmings, the first one shot and the first English story I've ever finished
> 
> I just wanna let you know a few things:
> 
> -I really appreciate critism as long as it's constructive and helps me improve my writing skills / ideas
> 
> -this is my first attempt to publish a story written in English (which is only my second language as some of you may already know)
> 
> -If someone wants to help me with this and read it/help me editing it before I am posting, feel free to message me!
> 
> -I won't do much smut because I feel like I am too unexperienced to write it and also kind of too innocent. I also enjoy reading fluff way more than reading smut (I usually skip the smut parts tbh)
> 
> So, that's it for now! I hope you'll actually start to read this little story now.  
> Anyway, thank you guys! Hope you enjoy this as much as I do!
> 
> Luna xx

**Wembley:**

 

“So you’re really sure?” “Yeah, of course I am.” “He actually told you. Like really, literally?” “Yes, Michael, now stop annoying me.” “But I just need to be sure.” “Why exactly? You’re not even gonna ask him out yet, are you?” “Probably not.” “See. Now fuck off.” “No need to be rude.” “ _ Bye _ , Michael.” “But Ashyyyyy?” 

“ _ What?! _ ” “Please, don’t tell him I asked you. I don’t want him to…know about this.” “Of course. I won’t tell him.” “Good.” “Alright.”

With a groan Ash turns around and  _ finally  _ gets to leave the hotel room, Michael remaining behind him, standing between the closing door and his bed on the carpet, hands stuffed in his pockets. 

The blue-haired boy stares at his hands, thinking about the conversation he just had, as he slowly crosses his arms in front of his chest.

They’re playing at Wembley tonight and soundcheck starts in about an hour. Mikey sighs. Wembley. Wembley. _Wembley._

That name means some bad luck for him usually.

He takes a moment to remind himself of the last times they performed at Wembley. For a second his hair is on fire again and he can hear himself scream in pain, thinking that his skin might be ripped off his face right now; then he feels the ground underneath his feet disappear and suddenly he’s falling, falling like a shot airplane, too heavy to fly now and not hitting the ground in forever.

Michael snorts at the unpleasant memory and steps back a few inches, deciding to sit down on the bed, which he is kind of sharing with Luke. It can’t be long until their driver is coming to pick them up and Michael still has to plan.

He feels himself getting slightly nervous at the thought of the upcoming show, but that’s normal, he supposes. He’ll just have to focus on not hurting himself.

A scene from yesterday evening slips into his mind – or was it Tuesday? Monday? He doesn’t even know anymore.

Anyway, Michael sees himself sitting in a circle with a few other persons who look really familiar to him.

Luke is to his right side, still mostly sober as he had only one drink containing actual alcohol so far, playing with a pendant on his waistband a fan gave him that morning.

Calum sitting opposite Michael, on the other hand, acts like a squirrel which has had a little too much caffeine. High-proof drinks always use to make him get even more restless than usual.

And well, last but not least there’s Ashton. The curly-haired drummer is just sitting quietly between Mikey and Calum, tapping a rhythm on the carpet with his long slender fingers as he waits for something to happen.

Michael also remembers the content of the conversation they had back then. It all starts when Calum reminds them of their upcoming show at/in Wembley.

“Guysss,” he says, slurring the word slightly but never realizing the effect his drinks are having on him. “What do ya think Mik- hah…Mickey will do next?” “Mickey, thank you very much,” Michael himself snorts since he hates hearing his name be mis-pronounced. “Secondly, I’m not doing anything, Hood. And if you don’t shut up right now, I’ll make your drunk ass pay.”

“M-Mikey’s annoyed,” Ash suddenly giggles as if it is the funniest thing that has ever been said and soon Luke is joining his laughter, biting his bottom lip as he chuckles almost silently, only very little noises escaping his precious mouth.

“Fuck y’all,” Michael groans. “Hurting myself once doesn’t mean I’m gonna do it every show from now on.”

“Twice! It actually happened twice!” Calum points at his friend with two fingers as if to prove his words right. “You fell off stage last time!”

“Wow, how could I  _ possibly _ forget that?!” “I don’t know…” “Fuck, you weren’t supposed to answer that question, Calum! It was fucking rhetorical!” “What’re ya talking ‘bout, bro? Stop being complicated!” 

“Just shut up. You’re drunk as fuck.”

Michael doesn’t realize he actually raises his voice at the end of the sentence, but his tone is apparently enough to make his friends shut up for a second which is really relieving since Michael is really pissed off right now.

The silence only lasts for a few seconds, though, before Ash starts chattering again, still giggling under his breath: “But actually, do you think Mikey is gonna do anything this time?”

“Yeah, I kinda think so,” Luke suddenly joins the conversation without any warning, quiet at first, but when Calum and Ashton both laugh cheeringly at his words he adds a little more loudly: “I bet that he’s gonna hit his head.”

Michael just watches him in disbelief as Luke grins proudly and the lead-guitarist immediately knows his best friend has come to the ‘confidence point’ again.

Generally Luke is mostly quiet and really shy, but sometimes, after having been encouraged by Ash or Cal usually, he suddenly becomes confident for a few minutes and that’s when he does the dumbest things.

“I’ll bet 20 $ that Mikey is gonna hit his head!” Luke claims, looking at Ash who gives him a thumbs-up before the drummer adds: “Okay, if he doesn’t, you owe me 20 $.”

“Heyyyy, I wanna be a part of this!” Calum whines from his spot now, pouting before he announces: “I bet that Michael falls again. 50 $.” “Wow, how can you be so sure?” Luke asks confusedly, smiling a bit afterwards. “I’ll win anyway.”

“Sure.” Ash raises his eyebrows and snorts, drawing quotation marks on the carpet. “Hey, stop it, guys!” Michael suddenly says, loud enough to turn all the attention to him. “That’s bullshit,” he tells his friends when they all look at him, feeling a little offended right now. “You’re not gonna bet.”

“Yes, we are,” Luke smirks, biting his lip cheekily. “No, you aren’t.” “Yes, we are.” “You aren’t.” “We are.” “Don’t fuck with me, Hemmings.” “Never in a million years.”

And that’s the moment when Michael decides he has to do something. He’ll pay them back, oh yes, he will and, damn, it will be funny as hell.

And now he has to plan. 

When the door opens about five minutes later the blue-haired boy is quite happy with his plan. Actually, he can’t wait to see his bandmate’s faces, but it will be kind of hard to translate it into action. Nonetheless he will hopefully nail the challenge.

“Mikey, we’re going to the stadium now,” Luke tells Michael, his head stuck between door and door frame, an adorable blush on his cheeks.

Michael supposes it was caused by the younger boy’s excitement (Luke is always really looking forward to big shows) and chuckles a little, getting up from his spot on the bed.

“m’coming,” he says and makes his way towards the door, but Luke shakes his head, enters the room and takes his hand, squeezing it tightly as he pulls his friend out of the room.

“You’re too slow.” “Relax, Luke, I’m already hurrying.” “Whatever. I don’t wanna be late.”

 

One and a half hours later the boys are backstage, waiting for the signal to get ready to go on stage. It can’t be much more than 5 minutes until the show starts and Michael is just replaying his plan in his head for the last time when suddenly he hears Ash’s familiar giggly voice.

“Hey, guys, do you have the money? You can give it to me already! I’m definitely gonna win.” “No way!” Luke replies, already holding his guitar as he enters the room.

“I  _ am _ gonna win indeed,” Ash says one last time before he goes  away to talk to Calum about some pointless shit. And that’s when Luke comes over to Michael, sitting down beside him in complete silence and shyly putting his head on the older boy’s shoulder.

“Hey Mikey,” he whispers, giving him a cracked smile. “What?!” Michael replies in a fake grumpy voice. “I’m mad at you.”

“No you aren’t?” Luke tells him, the statement sounding more like a question as if he wasn’t quite sure. Michael has to try his hardest to hold back the smile that threatens to make its way onto his lips.

“But Mikey,” Luke suddenly adds. “What?” his bandmate repeats, kind of curious now. “You won’t actually hurt yourself. Please promise me you’ll take care, ‘kay?”

He’s worried.  _ He’s actually worried. _ The realization hits Michael like a thunderclap and the blue-haired boy can feel his heart flutter inside of his chest.

But he just pushes it away for now and stands up so that Luke has to put his head off his shoulder. “Well,” the older guy says, grabbing his guitar from the sofa. “We’ll see what I’m gonna do. Apparently it’s better for you if I hurt myself.”

He looks at Luke and notices the worried and slightly hurt look on the blonde’s face, but he has to keep his attitude right now. Otherwise his plan won’t work.

“Mikey-“ Luke starts, but cuts himself off the next moment. And then they’re called to come on stage and there isn’t much more time to think about what just happened or what Michael is going to do.

 

The show goes pretty good – no, actually, it’s one of the best concerts 5 Seconds of Summer have ever played in Michael’s opinion.

The 20-year-old keeps rocking out on his guitar, giving it up for the applause, bathing in the crazy screams of the crowd.

He notices the looks his bandmates give him from time to time, though. It’s more than obvious they’re all waiting for something to go wrong and when they start playing ‘Permanent Vacation’ Michael decides that now it’s the right moment to get things going.

He glances at Luke beside him, admiring his sweaty hotness as he sings like he never did before. 

The fans are unstoppable; they’re cheering so loud they almost take over the music and Michael’s mind goes blank for a second when he realizes what he’s about to do in front of thousands of people.

But at this point he doesn’t even care anymore; he knows what he has to do and with every chord, every line he sings he feels himself getting closer.

The beat of his heart is taking over Ashton’s drumming and Michael doesn’t hear the music anymore as he leaves his spot behind the microphone, heading in front of the drums where he’s shredding his chords, waiting for his plan to work.

The crowd doesn’t seem to exist anymore and the situation is just surreal. Michael takes a deep breath. It’s time.

He only has to take a few steps but to him it feels like a thousand miles he has to overcome before he reaches his condition.

Luke is right in front of him now; the blonde is looking at him, waiting for him to come closer so they can play on each other’s guitars. And damn, Michael runs. But just before reaching his bandmate he stumbles, his legs crossing as he reaches out for his friend, accidentally or intentionally dragging him to the ground.

Luke doesn’t even have time to scream, he just catches Michael’s gaze as the blue-haired boy is above him suddenly, his face slowly coming closer and closer.

The older boy looks at his bandmate’s beautiful lips for a second, admiring the precious metal ring adorning Luke’s face as a smirk grows on his own.

Then they are united, finally, and Michael feels his chest swell, he feels his heart burst of excitement, of long-hidden emotions he’s allowed to feel now.

His lips are on Luke’s and he melts at the salty taste of them, at their soft texture, at the little moan that escapes them on accident.

Luke’s eyes are closed by now and it almost seems like he’s trying to pull Michael closer, to get him to kiss him for one more second. And it works.

The fans in the first row are already freaking out; some of them can’t believe their eyes right now, it does seem too surreal, seeing what they’ve been dreaming of, watching Michael Clifford kiss Luke Hemmings and strangely they look so hot while they make out with each other on the ground, their sweating bodies pressed together closely.

After what felt like ten hours Michael finally disconnects his lips from Luke’s, smiling at the younger boy beneath him as if to say ‘hah, I won’ before getting up, his cheeks flushed from the amazing feeling inside his stomach.

He doesn’t even have to look at the screens to know Ash’s and Calum’s expressions are priceless right now. They had no clue, no idea what he was going to do or how he was going to pay back.

Michael nods satisfied, partly because his plan worked and partly because…Luke. Just Luke.

His hands are covering the microphone and he clears his throat, still not hearing the crazy screams of the crowd.

“Looks like I might’ve slipped and fallen onto Luke’s face,” he says into the micro and his voice sounds unfamiliar to him all of a sudden. It’s rawer than usual and breathless still from the effect the kiss had on him. “Oops.”

And then he smiles the happiest smile the fans have ever seen on his face. It is like his expression lights up the whole stadium, the faces of everyone out there as they watch him on the big screen.

Pure adrenaline is still running through his veins, but Michael strangely feels calm now that he’s finally done it. He looks at Luke who has stood up by now and walked over to Calum, the older boy hugging him tightly, and Michael’s heart breaks as he sees Luke,  _ his _ Luke, crying.

But then he notices the smile on his curled lips that have just been on his own and realizes that Luke isn’t upset. He is the happiest in the world right now.

Just as happy as his future boyfriend – Michael Clifford, who has managed to not hurt himself in Wembley.

 


End file.
